Something Battered, Something Bruised
by Firewolf99
Summary: Weddings don't usually start off with an assassination. Then again, weddings don't usually feature Zaeed Massani... Wasn't AU until ME3 came out. Spiritual successor to 'Tales of the Normandy'.


**Someone Old, Someone New, Something Battered, Something Bruised**

Kasumi was in paroxysms of laughter on the floor.

Garrus was leaning on the med bench, chuckling.

Dr Chakwas had had to sit down from the giggles that erupted from deep within her.

And Shepard? Shepard couldn't contain himself.

"So, Jack. Pink?"

Jack swore loudly. "Shut the fuck up!" She stood in the middle of the med bay, her fists clenched, and an expression of loathing painted across her face.

A biotic spark crackled from her fists, and the laughter died down quickly, vainly being contained by glittering smirks. Shepard held up his hands conciliatorily, smiling apologetically at the tattooed menace.

"Alright Jack. We get it. No laughing. It looks nice on you, seriously."

It didn't look too bad. The dress incorporated long sleeves, and had a fairly conservative neckline (Shepard decided that this was likely Miranda's scheme to hide Jack's tattoo's, rather than a modest decision by the wearer). The skirt rose just an inch off the floor, to reveal a pair of gladiator sandals- the nearest Miranda was going to get to having Jack in heels.

Unfortunately for Jack's dignity, it was also a fluorescent fuchsia. Which clashed horrifically with her image. Especially with her head tattoo's still on display: there was no way Miranda was persuading her to wear a wig.

"I can't believe the fucking cheerleader got me to wear this shit." Jack growled as she stood, while Tali tried to pull a loose thread out of the train. The Biotic had resolved to endure the torment for now, but any hint of further provocation and the whole ship would probably last 5 pain filled minutes. "It's her wedding, not mine!"

"Ah, c'mon Jack." Garrus grinned at the fuming ex-con. "I like a girl in a dress."

Jack snarled at the Turian. "And that's another thing. Why do I have to go with Chuckles?"

"It is a human custom, I believe, for a man and a woman to go together on such occasions. I believe they call it a date?" Tali queried, finally removing the irritating thread and stepping back from her subject. The Quarian herself was in her usual form fitting black bodysuit, but she had replaced the usual lilac cloth with a flowing over-dress which streamed behind her in a small train. It matched Jack's dress in colour, but Tali appeared to be less perturbed about it.

Garrus perked up at this. "A date? As in..."

Jack raised a threatening finger at the Turian. "You even think about it, Turian, and I will destroy you in so many different ways, even a second Lazarus project won't help you."

Garrus's eyes went wide at the vehemence in her voice. Slowly, he backed towards the door, and left.

Shepard chuckled. "Well, you've managed to terrify my Turian sniper. Any more of my crew you want to traumatise?"

"Any more of them going to flirt with me?" Jack retorted.

Shepard looked out the window, and saw a few crewmembers staring at Jack in disbelief. "I hope not. For their sakes."

Jack nodded brusquely. "So are we nearly there yet? I want to get this shit over with."

* * *

><p>Destroying a Reaper fleet and saving a galaxy didn't seem like the most romantic of dates. Never mind using the destruction of the Reaper Brain as a backdrop for proposing. But, then again, Miranda Lawson was no ordinary woman. And Jacob had to do something big to impress her.<p>

Now, standing in the foyer of a church on Mars- a faux stone, authentic replica of some little church back on Earth, (which was, unfortunately, unavailable due to repair work) in a black suit with a white dress shirt and a bright pink bow tie (to match the Bridesmaid's dresses: Miranda's choice, of course) Jacob reflected on the steps his life had taken since joining the Normandy.

He had told Shepard, just after his father's arrest that the beautiful, talented, perfect Miranda Lawson was too high a standard for him to aim for. Shepard had just given him a funny look and moved the conversation on. Jacob remembered being grateful that the commander had left it at that. Too many feelings were tied up in those days, those 3 months that he had buried in his psyche and tried to forget.

But later, when the Omega 4 incident had ended and the crew were back on the Citadel having drinks at the Dark Star, Kelly had pulled Jacob, rather reluctantly, aside.

The conversation that followed was one of the most important in Jacob's life. Kelly had taken his fears and stripped them bare for him to see. Until that point, Jacob had seen Kelly as more of a glorified secretary than any sort of councillor, but obviously the woman had more to her than met the eye.

He left that conversation far more confident that his XO could become his lover. And far more suspicious of the Yeomen. Who knows what else she knew...

But now, here he was. About to get married to the Ice Queen himself. The frosty, aloof operative that he had seduced and melted and loved. The woman who loved him.

And the frigging priest was _late!_

"Where is he?" Jacob muttered. "He'd better not be drunk off his ass somewhere..."

"I'm sure any fears of that were knocked on the head when he found out who he was working for." Kaiden smirked, "and that they were squad mates of a certain spectre."

"Doesn't reassure me as to why he's late, though, does it?" Jacob muttered, and leaned against a pew. The church was empty apart from the two Alliance soldiers, and Jacob was twitchy.

"Relax, Jacob." Kaiden said, smirking. The biotic was dressed in a near identical suit to the groom, aside from his choice of bow tie colour: a blood red colour. He rested a reassuring hand on Jacob's shoulder. "The others are only just pulling into orbit anyway. You can't get married to someone who isn't here, and the ceremony doesn't start for a few hours yet. Just... calm down."

Jacob breathed out heavily. "Sorry, Alenko. I'm not the best of company at the moment."

"You were better company in that cell on the Cerberus ship." Kaiden replied, grinning. "And there, we hated each other. You even tried to ram a bedpost through my neck."

Jacob smiled briefly. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"No, I'm really not."

"Well, you're the one that suggested biotic tag to pass the time."

"Biotic TAG, not Biotic Javelins."

"You threw a pillow at me."

"Who's having a goddamn pillow fight?" came a gruff voice from the doorway. "If it ain't some women, I don't wanna know."

Jacob turned to look at the doors. "Massani? Didn't know you were on the guest list."

"He's certainly not dressed for a wedding." Kaiden crossed his arms, frowning slightly.

The aging mercenary grinned as he walked up the aisle. He was wearing his battered blood red armour, and had his Mantis sniper rifle hanging in a rear slung holster across his back. His off coloured eyes glittered with hidden amusement, and his aging hair had finally started to succumb to greying. "I'm not here to watch you get hitched, kid. I'm on a contract. I just heard you were in the area and decided to see whether Shepard had toughened you up yet." Zaeed turned to Kaiden. "Looks like I accidentally walked in to the biotic kindergarten instead."

Kaiden shook his head. "When are you going to give it up and call it a day, Zaeed? Soon they'll be using you as an archaeological survey site. Oldest tough shit alive."

Zaeed cackled. "I could still wipe you all over the floor, son. But, if everything goes to plan, I'll soon be hanging up my gun and retiring to a place on Bekenstein, sitting in a rocking chair and waxing goddamn nostalgic about old times and Jessie."

Jacob smiled at this. Zaeed had left the Normandy almost as soon as it had returned to the Citadel, citing "No tolerance for crappy ceremonies," as his excuse, and so no-one had been there to congratulate him. The galaxy may have been praising Shepard as the hero of the battle of Palaven but, in that final battle it had been Jessie who had saved the day...

* * *

><p>"<em>GRAAAAGH!" the Monster bellowed as it swung its meaty hand towards She<em>_pard. The Commander rolled out of the way just in time, as an earth shattering thud followed a mild shockwave which threw Jacob off his feet. Panting, the operative looked up at the beast, standing a good 20 feet from him._

_The being was monstrous- a mess of flesh and sinew that seemed to just slop around a basic, metal skeleton- like a pile of wet mud was slopped on a 30 foot Krogan and sent into battle._

_Only this wasn't wet mud. This was the processed genetic material of millions of beings, and at least 12 different races. And it was trying it's very best to add 6 more beings to the growing list of the dead._

_Dual assault rifles sounded in rhythm, as Zaeed and Wrex covered Shepard's retreat with a hailstorm of fire that gave even this being pause. It pulled a meaty hand to his face and growled furiously at the bee stings, before lifting up the other and pointing the palm at the two. Immediately, both leapt in opposite directions as a chute in the hand began to glow._

"_Tali! Legion! NOW!" The Spectre bellowed._

_The twin glowing lights, one pink and one orange, of Tali and Legion's combat drones rocketed forward towards the vivid amber target. They impacted with a faint hiss of burning meat, and the creature howled as it stumbled backwards, clutching it's hand as it banged into a metallic spire and wobbled, unbalanced ._

_Jacob saw his chance. He stepped forwards a few paces, His shotgun trained on the meaty foot of the monster. "Time for you to fight the toughest enemy of all, fucker." He smirked- a grin to end all grins. _

"_Gravity."_

_The bullets ripped into the flesh like a laser cutter through melting ice cream. The being howled, and fell backwards, crashing into the floor._

_And through it._

_The immense bulk of the creature also meant it was extraordinarily heavy. The floor may have been tough, but even it was unprepared for the weight of gigatons of flesh and metal collapsing onto it.. The floor crumbled, and the Reaper fell down, back first, howling demonically. _

_Then, there was silence, save for the sounds of breathing filling the air. Frantic brains tried to cope with the end of a 20 minute firefight with a demon from hell itself. Slowly, processes caught up with time. Elation was suppressed by a need to get away._

_Too late for Shepard. _

_He had moved slightly closer to the edge than the others. _

_Which was why he was grabbed. _

_The roar came from below the precipice, but the hand which held Shepard and the hand that grabbed the floor were instantly recognisable. Jacob wondered how it had survived. He couldn't do anything else. He was too far away from the creature to do anything with his weapons, and he couldn't use his biotics on something of that size. _

_Afterwards, Jacob found out how hopeless the situation really was for Shepard. Wrex was still on the floor from before. Tali was at the other side of the room, and Legion was moving jerkily after a new hole in his head had damaged his mobility circuits early on in the fight. And Zaeed, despite being closer than everyone else, was swearing loudly._

"_Out of Goddamn clips!" _

_Helplessly, Jacob watched as in slow motion as Tali screamed, like a primal animal, from beneath her mask. Wordlessly. Helplessly. Without thought. _

_And then Zaeed charged._

_Jacob blinked, stupidly. Zaeed was running TOWARDS the monster's hands, panting heavily. He was holding a gun in his hands, but his Assault rifle and Sniper rifle were on his back. Where the hell had he got a third gun?_

_And what the hell was he going to do with it?_

_Zaeed answered the last question in the best way: with actions. _

_He leapt over the ledge._

"_RAAAARGH!"_

_Whatever Zaeed had done, it was enough to force the creature to release its grip on the ledge. It fell._

_Still holding Shepard._

"_NO!" Jacob bellowed, but it was too late. They had plunged into the darkness below, and a tremor ripped through the ship. Jacob stumbled, trying to keep his balance, and then turned back to the exit. Wrex had tossed Tali over his shoulder in a fireman's carry, and was charging off, the Quarian mechanic limp and unresponsive, though struggling would have had little impression on the massively built Krogan. Legion was already at the elevator, waiting for Jacob to catch up, his expressionless face like a guiding beacon in the gloom. _

_Jacob ran, without looking back. There was nothing he could do..._

_..."Nothing I could do." Jacob spat furiously as he rested against Miranda's shoulder next to the cockpit. "I was just some fucking lump of shit. At least Zaeed TRIED..."_

"_Jacob, if you'd have leapt down there, you'd be dead." Miranda said, stroking an unusually bare hand along his cheek tenderly. "I don't... I don't think I could live with that." _

_A tear ran down her soft cheek, and dripped onto his chin. He turned towards her, and kissed away the next one. He looked up, around the cockpit_

_Tali was still unresponsive, just sitting in the co-pilot's chair with a blanket pointlessly thrown over her suited form. No-one was sure how she was under her mask, only that she was conscious and not at risk of dying from any wounds. Her emotional state was a complete mystery._

_Joker was seated as usual, at the pilot's chair. His face was drawn. Jacob had never seen him look so tired- and he had seen Joker after an all night drinking contest against Grunt. The pilot's head was dropping. His expression was grim. He appeared to have hit the wall._

_Garrus was standing just behind him. The Turian's armour was coated in dust, from his earlier battles upon Palaven itself. If Jacob had heard the reports right, the Turian had taken on a Krogan Husk in unarmed combat on his own. From the looks of him, Jacob would have thought a Rachni Queen would be more accurate. The Turian was missing a head spike, and it looked like a bomb had gone off on his right thigh- the plating was blown almost clean through, and Jacob could see the black under armour through the gap. The Turian's expressions were hard to read, but every now and then, he snarled, fangs bared, at the view screen._

_The Base hadn't exploded yet. The charges were scheduled to go off in around 2 minutes. But it was inevitable. The Reaper was doomed. And with this ship going down, the network of Reaper minds would fall, and the "Galactic fleet" would end this war with a final, decisive strike. But at the time, Jacob didn't really acknowledge this. _

_His thoughts were on the brave warriors who had sacrificed their lives for the galaxy. First Vega, in the Cerberus torture camp, burned to a crisp for refusing to co-operate. Then Samara, in the assault on the Reaper attacking Thessia. She had killed the reaper with an immense biotic display, but it had cost the Justicar her life Now, Shepard and Zaeed._

_Jacob felt proud to have served beside them. He could picture them now, in his head. Vega, looking bewildered at the antics of another alien race. Samara, serenely mediating another argument among the crew. Zaeed laughing at an obscene joke, or reminiscing as he held a pint of ale at the bar._

_And Shepard._

_He had been the glue. The wire which held the crew together. This crazy storm of species, emotions and personalities would never have managed without Shepard guiding them. Talking to them. Working out what made them tick, and addressing their problems. Jacob remembered the fear when Cerberus had gone after Oriana. Miranda was inconsolable when reports came that her sister was dead. But one scrap that she was alive, one little clue in a picture, and Shepard had gone straight after it. Shepard said it was to keep maximum crew efficiency but Jacob knew it was more than that. The commander was a regular boy scout._

_Plus, saving Oriana had also lead to a Cerberus arm dump. And everybody loved shiny new guns._

_But now; Now he had gone. Died due to an accident. A quirk of fate. A misstep._

_And there was nothing Jacob could have done about it._

_Suddenly, there was a crackle over the radio. Joker raised his head slowly to look at the incoming transmission. He stared at it for a few seconds._

"_Who is it?" Miranda asked, trying to regain her composure._

_Joker's mouth moved a few times, unable to voice his answer. Garrus looked over his shoulder._

"_The Kodiak? But didn't you leave that...?"_

_A pause._

_Then an explosion of movement._

_Tali's head snapped to look at Joker. Garrus had leapt towards the airlock. Jacob and Miranda stood, quickly, still holding onto each other. Joker was pressing several buttons at once, trying to pinpoint the transmission._

"_Kodiak, this is Joker. Shepard, are you there?"_

"_It's me, you goddamn cripple!" Zaeed's voice rumbled through the speakers. "Shepard's in the back. We're fine for the moment, but we've got flying bastards all over us. Would somebody please bloody well cover our arses?"_

_Joker found them on the scanners. The Kodiak was limping away from two Occuluses, who were relentlessly chasing the crippled shuttle with laser streams roasting around the hull. The Kodiak could barely fly, let alone perform evasive manoeuvres, yet somehow the craft was still intact: at least, for now._

_Joker wasted no time. The Thanix cannon ripped through the small fighters like paper. The Kodiak, free from pursuers, turned towards the Normandy._

"_Get those bloody doors open, we ain't stopping!" Zaeed's voice came over the comm. link again Joker obliged quickly, as Garrus moved from covering the airlock to rushing towards the lift. Tali was in front of him already, whipping past Mordin. The old Salarian nearly fell over, clutching to his polished staff as he managed to stay up. _

_Miranda and Jacob chose to stand by the pilot instead, watching as the Kodiak thundered into the ships docking bay. There was a definite vibration through the ship, and then Zaeed's voice ripped through the cockpit_

"_GET US THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"_

"_Don't need to tell me." Joker muttered, as he hammered at a few buttons. The ship spun round and rocketed away from the reaper. _

_Jacob looked at the timer. There was a good 30 seconds left before the reaper hub was annihilated. They were home free. They had won._

_Miranda was still in his arms, and their arms tightened as Joker turned the ship to face the Cyber-organism. _

"_I have always wanted to do this." Joker said. "Well, not specifically with a reaper, just... you know... actually watch an explosion..." The pilot reached into a cubby hole at the by his console, and pulled out an old, battered pair of sunglasses, with a wire frame and large shades. "...With these on. Great Granddad's Aviators. Bought them in2026." _

_He settled back in his seat. Miranda and Jacob released each other's bodies, but moved to hold each other's hand. They faced the Reaper_

"_And victory whoop in... 5... 4... 3..."_

_The Reaper erupted in a sphere of blue fire. The Quarian Electro-magnetic bombs did their job well, obliterating the shell of the ship, simply cancelling out their shields. The flare of the original explosion died out in a few seconds, leaving a magnificent blue-purple after flare and Joker whooping._

"_YEEEEAAAAH! HAHAHA! Take that Reaper! We win, you lose. Even if I apparently can't count..."_

_Jacob smiled and looked at Miranda. She was looking out at the aftermath, but with her expression, she seemed much more contemplative. She was partially chewing her lip, and her eyes glimmered in the starlight. _

_She had never seemed more innocent. More beautiful. And Jacob decided, then and there, in the shadow of their victory, that this was the moment._

_He reached into his combat suit and pulled out a small black box. He had taken to carrying the damn thing around in his pocket after missing the perfect moment on Kahje 2 long weeks earlier. In the excitement of preparation for this mission, he had forgotten to take it out. _

_Miranda seemed curious. "What...?"_

_Jacob fell to one knee, and opened the box._

_Joker spun round at Miranda's gasp. For a few seconds, he was silent, as he tried to work out why Miranda appeared to be attempting to crush Jacob's ribs. Then, he saw the black box in Jacob's hand._

"_Holy shit."_

* * *

><p>Zaeed had never revealed how exactly he had killed the Reaper. He had also never told anyone why he had prepared Jessie with a fresh clip and taken her with him, despite the old rifle proving virtually useless against anything with substantial armour. Shepard certainly couldn't remember: he had blacked out in the husk's grip, and only came to after Zaeed had woken him. His first sight, he claimed, was Zaeed grinning his head off, holding a huge, metallic eye in his hand. Zaeed apparently still kept it somewhere, as a trophy.<p>

"So, a last contract, huh? Where have I heard that one before?" Jacob looked pointedly at the mercenary. "Face it, Zaeed, you're going to be 130 and still shooting criminals in the kneecaps."

Zaeed look fell slightly. For the first time, Jacob thought he looked tired. "I can't keep going forever, kid. I've done some crazy things in my life. Beaten a Krogan battle master in close combat. Charged a Mega Husk with a 70 year old rifle. Even got a vicar's licence somewhere round here. But now, I just need to settle down. Get a dog and hunt rabbits till I die."

"Rabbits?" Alenko asked, humorously.

Zaeed smiled at that. "Maybe foxes. The occasional bear. Can't be too hard."

They chuckled together. Three warriors sharing the knowledge that, for them, the fighting may never stop. It was about finding what peace they could. This, for Jacob, meant marrying the girl of his dreams. For Kaiden, it was about forgetting lost love and moving on with new ones. And with Zaeed, it was about finishing one last job.

"So what are you two layabouts waiting in here for?" Zaeed asked, finally.

Jacob sighed and turned back towards the doors. Kaiden grinned ruefully and patted Jacob on the back. "We were meant to be meeting the priest for a pre-wedding discussion, but he hasn't shown up."

Zaeed smirked. "You probably scared the bastard off. Didn't want to muck up the wedding. Not with so many bad-arse bastards nearby." He leaned against a pew. "Who is the poor sod, anyway?"

"It's a human. One Father Tyrone Jackson. Supposedly, he's a big cheese on Mars."

Kaiden had turned back to Jacob while he was saying this, so he had missed Zaeed's expression turn from casual inquiry to focused interest. Suddenly, the warrior was no longer idle, his eyes boring into Jacob's back as he digested this seemingly irrelevant bit of news.

"Tyrone Jackson? Yeah... I've heard of him." Zaeed turned away slowly from the two biotics. "I'd better let you two go. Maybe we'll talk more later."

Jacob raised his eyes at Zaeed's sudden departure, but refrained from bringing it up. "Sure, Zaeed. Always a pleasure."

The aging mercenary raised an arm in acknowledgment, and left through the great double doors. Jacob turned to Kaiden and shrugged. Kaiden smirked.

"Maybe the old buggers getting senile?"

* * *

><p>Zaeed watched the man from the shadows.<p>

He was stood beneath a statue of Russell Howard, a 21st century comedian who, apparently, had been the first person to perform a stand-up comedy routine in outer space. In front of him was a bustling city plaza. Two women were sitting on a bench, chatting quietly, while one of them held a small, tentacle headed baby. A Turian woman was leaning against a pillar chatting to a Salarian accountant, both in full suits, which fitted the Salarian male much better than the more bulky features of the female, who looked pained by the constricting fabric. A black man was whispering quietly to two Batarian mercenaries in the corner of the square, skulking in the harsh white light of the bio dome. And a group of mixed human/ Asari teenage girls (though how old the Asari were was a more difficult guess) were standing outside a passageway, giggling away the problems of youth.

It was the Batarians and their contact Zaeed was interested in. The dark skinned man wasn't young anymore, a wisp of grey hair the only follicles on his head. He stooped slightly, back arching under the pressure's of time. The Batarians seemed to be far younger: Runners, most probably. It was their blue armour with white markings which interested Zaeed the most.

Blue Suns.

The man handed a data pad to the two Batarians, and Zaeed decided that he should probably get involved now, while he had the most chance of catching at least one of the mercenaries alive. He stepped out from around the statue and walked swiftly towards the trio. His sidearm, a custom Phalanx with the laser pointer replaced with a more traditional iron sight, was already drawn.

The Batarians noticed him first. They slowly edged round to face him, rifles half up suspiciously. It took the human longer to realise what was going on.

"Zaeed?" A dry croak rasped out of the aging throat.

Zaeed stopped a good 6 metres from the group. His sidearm was still by his side. "Hello Tyrone. Been a while. Aren't you supposed to be at a rehearsal?"

The man winced and looked at his two contacts. "Aah... look, I'm going. I just needed to talk some... business over with these..."

"Save it for someone who gives a shit, Jackson." Zaeed interrupted. "You think I care about some shit-arse wedding? I just want to know one thing."

The courtyard had emptied slightly now. The business duo had been the first to leave, followed swiftly by the young mothers. The young women, however, had obliviously moved over to the statue, more focused on their conversation than the dangerous events unfolding near them. The vicar licked his lips, now dry with nervousness, and lifted his hands. "Look, Massani..."

Zaeed snapped his pistol up to the sweating man's face. "Shut up, Jackson."

The Batarians snarled and lifted their rifles, but Zaeed was faster. He put two shots through one Batarians arm, and another into the second's rifle. The furious bark of the pistol alerted the girls, who screamed collectively and scattered for the doors. The wounded Batarian, to his credit, made little noise- a harsh exhalation was all. The Batarian with the shot rifle seemed more surprised than anything else.

However fast Zaeed had been, he was still distracted from his primary target. A fist connected with his guts, punishing him for his mistake, and Zaeed reflexively bent double at the sharp wrench in his stomach. A few seconds of coughing pain later, and Zaeed was glancing round wildly, finally settling his eyes on the back of the fleeing holy man.

With a snarl, Zaeed lifted his pistol and fired, twice.

A howl of pain ripped from the vicar as he fell. The two shots had impacted in his left kneecap and ankle respectively, crippling the hapless human. Zaeed grimaced, and turned back to the two Batarians. The one with no weapon was helping up the one with the arm wounds. Zaeed picked up the dropped rifle, and stared down the wounded Batarian who owned it.

"Get out of here, squint." Zaeed growled.

The Batarians decided it wasn't worth it, and left out one of the side doors. Zaeed and Tyrone were now alone in the room apart from the grinning statue of a forty year old comedian and a few curious crows, which flitted about almost as if they were back on Earth except for the restrictions of the dome.

Zaeed strolled casually towards the man on the floor, who was swearing viscously as he tried to crawl towards a door frame.

"Really, father. A man of the faith knowing language like that?" Zaeed grinned, as he kicked the man onto his back. The coloured man hissed in pain, and Zaeed's smirk grew wider. "Anyone would think it was a front."

"Fuck off, Massani!" The vicar swore again. "I'm bloody legit now. You didn't have to shoot me."

"If you're not doing anything wrong, how come you attacked me?" Zaeed countered. "Not the actions of a penitent man, are they?"

The vicar was losing blood, but not much. Zaeed's shots had been well placed. However, the aging mercenary had no more time to waste. He lifted his Omni-tool and gave Tyrone a small dose of medi-gel: just enough to keep him alive. Then, he pointed his gun back at the vicar's head.

"No more games. Where's Vido?"

"You think I'm going to tell you anything?" The man on the floor spat.

"No." Zaeed replied. "But my pistol does."

The wounded man hissed as Zaeed put pressure on his still sore leg. "Alright! ALRIGHT! I get it. I'll talk!"

Zaeed waited.

The crippled man shifted uncomfortably. "Shit. Vido... he's only two blocks away. Holed up in a room in the Asgard apartments with several of his men. Big shots, not grunts. Turian's."

Zaeed was silent for a moment. Then he nodded, and stood up.

"Now how difficult was that?" Massani grinned, as he accessed his Omni-tool. "Now, time for you to go marry two friends of mine. I'll just call them. Course, I'll have to explain why you've got two bullet holes in your leg..."

* * *

><p>The door was a bright white colour, matching all the other doors in this complex. Its anonymity was its strength. If Zaeed hadn't noticed the Blue Sun merc leaving the apartment, he would never have known which door Tyrone had been talking about.<p>

The old Bounty Hunter leant back from his post, 2 stories above the door. He had been waiting for a good 20 minutes now, and there had been no sign of Vido. Zaeed was sure the Blue Suns leader would come out soon, however. The bastard couldn't stay cooped up forever.

He mused on his chosen plan. A sniper shot to the head with shield piercing ammunition was a very impersonal form of killing. Not his first choice of how to deal with a man like Santiago. The man who had betrayed him all those years ago, and left him to rot with the rats. He'd have preferred to hang him upside down from a monument, castrate him, and suffocate him with his own genitalia if he had half the chance. Zaeed had had plenty of time to think up ways of brutally finishing his old partner.

But now, at the crux of the matter, he knew that he was too old for that shit. One round, one betrayal cancelled, one quick exit and he might even pop in on the kid's wedding on his way back. He'd have to change into something more suitable first...

The door opened.

Zaeed sat up and held his rifle tightly. He tried to relax his muscles slightly, to allow himself to loosen up and prepare for the shot. His eyes were trained down the scope, adjusted just right for Santiago's height. He knew where the bullet would impact: straight through the forehead, driving through the brain to exit out the back of his head. A quick, clean kill.

Instead, his scope saw Turian chest armour.

Zaeed swore mildly, and waited. His opponent looked round cautiously, before turning to deliver a message. Zaeed saw a shuffling of movement, and then...

The Turian stepped forwards a few paces. Behind him, two more Turian's moved to either side of him. Then, slowly, they shuffled to the left of the doorway.

Zaeed blinked twice. _What the hell are those goddamned Bonearses doing?_

Then, he saw a flash of blue armour behind one of them, and he realised.

The Turian's were literally providing a moving wall for Vido. They knew that he would only have time for one shot before station security would be on him and he'd have to run. So they were preventing him from hitting his actual target. Which meant that they knew he was coming.

He was going to gut those Batarians if he found them.

Zaeed raged for a few seconds more, furious that, once again, Vido was going to escape him. Then, his eyes caught something through the scope.

Maybe it was the haste of leaving. Maybe Vido was just a poor commander. Or maybe they really wanted to kill Zaeed to the point of recklessness. But one of the Turians was carrying a Liquid Nitrogen charge on the outside of his belt.

Nitrogen in its usual form is a gas- it makes up 72% of Earth's atmosphere, and is reasonably inert. However, at temperatures of -196 degrees centigrade or lower, it becomes a liquid. And this liquid is lethal. It was once used to dissolve bodies for easy burial by freezing the cadavers into statues which could then be shattered by mere vibrations. As usual with humans, one man's tool is another man's weapon, and soon enough weaponised LN2 was being used by armies all over the world, firstly to shatter enemy fortifications, but then in grenade and, at one point, bullet form. With the progression into space, colder temperature had been found, and LN2 became relatively extinct in the favour of so called "Cryo" Ammo, but some human soldiers still swore by the more familiar LN2 grenade.

Zaeed couldn't care less about history, however. What he did know is that this Turian had given him the opportunity to wreak havoc.

The charge was new, and therefore smaller than original charges, which had to fit cooling systems and an explosive charge to open the canister. This container used an E-Textile that, at the press of a button, switched from a rigid structure to a more relaxed one, meaning it would shatter. The grenades usually had a 3-4 second fuse and a kill switch on them, to prevent accidental release. However, no canister could resist an armour piercing bullet.

Being a new charge also meant that it was likely to take out everything within a metre of the resulting eruption of freezing liquid. Zaeed thanked whoever was up there that there were no civilians around. After spending as much time with Shepard as he had, one's morals began to shift, and Zaeed was no longer sure if he could have stomached killing another civilian just to take out Vido.

The Turian holding a grenade was at one end of the line. Zaeed re-sighted his rifle carefully for the Turian's hip, and hoped that the shields were not designed to resist a close proximity LN2 attack.

The shot roared loudly in his ears, but the recoil was minimal. Zaeed wasn't bothered by either. The moment passed in an instant as the bullet whistled clean through the charge.

A small explosion rocked the corridor, only just obscuring the action. There must have been some explosive matter in the container after all. What was even more impressive was the spurt of liquid outwards, and the hiss of evaporating Nitrogen. Zaeed waited 3 seconds for the smoke and steam to clear, before examining his handiwork. He could afford the near miss with the security for the chance to see his revenge through.

The Turian furthest from the blast was relatively unharmed. He seemed merely shaken, as he slowly rose to his feet. The Turian in the middle was slightly worse off, with half his arm sheathed in an icy prison. Zaeed smirked as the mercenary tried to use that arm to get up, and it shattered under his weight, leaving a stump in place instead. Zaeed had never heard a Turian scream before, but the song was like music.

The Turian armed with the charge had been almost completely disintegrated by the explosion and liquid, leaving only a thin coating of dust on the floor where he had been. But none of these were as bad looking as Vido.

The LN2 spurt had caught the hapless human in the face- with horrific consequences. Vido had been likely been killed almost immediately- and yet, for the few seconds that he had been alive, he would have felt his eyeballs freeze.

When water freezes, it expands outwards- and eyes contain a lot of water. The LN2 charges had expanded these eyes to the point where they had exploded out of their casing. The grenades explosive element had then thawed them out again- leaving Vido's face a gruesome skull, with peeled skin and cartilage, melted features and the remains of eye matter dripping from their sockets.

Zaeed smirked through the scope. _Now you're uglier than me, you son of a bitch._

He picked up the rifle and walked away from the scene, ignoring the flaring alarms of the security systems whining their message around him. He had to clean this rifle. And then he had to sit back and truly savour this moment.

He was almost back to his apartment when his Omni-tool buzzed a message through. Curiously, he took a look.

_Zaeed_

_Get your skinny wrinkled ass over to the church NOW!_

_Kaiden_

Zaeed raised an eyebrow.

"Well what's crawled up the kid's arse and died this time?" He wondered as he changed course

* * *

><p>As it turned out, no-one had died. Yet. Zaeed was fairly sure he was going too, however.<p>

"What do you mean, he can't do the goddamned service?" The Bounty Hunter spluttered. "I only shot the bastard in the leg. Couple more doses of medi-gel and he should be..."

"He's allergic to medi-gel." The biotic monotoned, glaring at the (slightly taller) man before him. "They have to pull some Omni-gel out of storage, but it's going to take 6 hours to do that at least. By which time, Miranda and Jacob should be tucked up in bed, post reception." Kaiden threw his arms up in the air. "Only you, Zaeed. Only you could put the only vicar on Mars into hospital on the day of a wedding."

"He can't be the only bloody Holy man in this dust heap!" Zaeed desperately returned, "And anyway, didn't you think to check whether he was an ex- Blue Sun's hitman?"

"He said he was legit." Kaiden sniffed. "And yes, for reasons unknown to man, the only person to hold a marriage licence on this planet was Tyrone Jackson."

"And me." Zaeed remarked absently.

"And you." Kaiden returned: and then he stopped and looked at Zaeed closely.

Zaeed noticed after a few seconds and returned the stare, his eyes narrow. "What the hell are you looking at?"

* * *

><p>Kasumi wasn't entirely sure why she was still here.<p>

Sure, Shepard had helped her with Keiji's grey box- letting her to decide when to let go of it instead of forcing its destruction. And sure, she considered the crew of the Normandy closer than mere work colleagues.

But this was Mars. And Mars was home to some of the richest humans in the galaxy at the moment. Rich people who were too focused on recovering from an invasion of galactic Robo-Cthulu's to be worrying about their personal finances.

In her old days, Kasumi would have snuck off, headed for the rich district and made a killing off of some poor sucker's idiocy. But now, when the galaxy was saved and everything was starting to calm down, she just...

It wasn't as if the talent was no longer there. Only yesterday she had managed to sneak a whole box full of Bollinger into her room from a wine store on the station. But somehow, the kleptomania was fading. Now she just wanted to... to...

Well, right now she wanted to punch Zaeed right in his wrinkled old face. And then give Kaiden a painful surprise for passing this job onto her.

Sighing, she knocked on Miranda's door.

There was a sob from the other side of the barricade, and Kasumi's black mood turned crimson. How the hell was she supposed to be supportive to a sobbing bride AND tell aforementioned bride that the vicar had come down with an unfortunate case of "Zaeedus pissoffery"? She knocked again.

"Miranda? Any chance I can come in?"

Another sniffle, but at least there was some movement. Kasumi heard the beep of an Omni-tool, and the corresponding hiss of the door unlocking and opening. Kasumi couldn't help but smile at that. Only Miranda would have a wedding dress with a built in Omni-tool.

She stepped inside, trying not to trip over her own dress- a pink, floor length gown almost identical to Jack's, except that her gloves cut off at the fingers. She didn't mind the colour as much as the biotic ex-con, but had decided soon after putting the dress on that from now on it was skin tight clothing or knee length dresses. Anything floor length would be burnt in a fire, before it caused her to endure _another_ pratfall.

Miranda was sitting at her chair by the vanity. The XO was all prepared to be walking down the aisle, aside from the slight smudge marks where tears had desperately been wiped away. Kasumi's expression changed and she moved over to the downbeat bride-to-be sympathetically. "Hey. None of that. Do you know how hard that makeup is to fix?"

Miranda looked back into the mirror, and muttered something violently rude under her breath. Kasumi was mildly unnerved by the sudden change in the usually more composed woman. The XO reached for a makeup wipe.

"So...what's all this about, huh?" Kasumi asked awkwardly. Heck, she was a good few years younger than Miranda, she wasn't supposed to be the mother hen!

Miranda had calmed herself, and was furiously reworking her makeup. Kasumi marvelled at the efficiency of the older woman. It would have taken the thief a good 20 minutes to sort herself out of this mess, but Miranda was already most of the way there.

It also, Kasumi realised, provided the bride with a channel for her thoughts and emotions.

Finally, Miranda answered, her voice still slightly thick with repressed agitation. "It's just... this is my wedding. The happiest occasion of my life, supposedly. And yet..."

Kasumi crossed her arms. "Well, if you've gone off Jacob, do you mind putting in a good word about me? He's got a nice bottom."

Miranda tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. "No. I'm not nervous about him. It's just..." She struggled for words yet again, the strain of putting her thoughts into coherency showing on her face twisted with the effort.

"I have no-one. No family to wish me well. No father to hand me away." Her face turned angry at this. "Though he would have probably thrown me off a cliff rather than let me marry anyone but an admiral."

Kasumi nodded sympathetically as Miranda continued. "I know he was a... a nasty man and I know he had a gun to Miredin's throat but..." Miranda broke off as she turned to Kasumi, as if the mirror's reflection was broadcasting the event and she couldn't bear to watch.

Kasumi remembered it well. The angry hiss of Mordin next to her as he was forced to watch his nephew being threatened- just because he was on a research project that threatened a man's profits. The smug grin on the businessman's face as he planned his departure. Perhaps a glass of expensive, Ardat Yakshi made wine in the business class flight. The tight pinch of Shepard's face as he analysed all the available data, desperately searching for an escape route.

Miranda clenching her fists in anger before her, desperate to move, to stop the man who made her from getting away again, from continuing to haunt her.

Then, for a flash of a second, a red dot resting on the business man's head. For a flash of a second, the hostage-takers eyes crossing in confusion. For a flash of a second, Kasumi gasping.

Then, a ferocious crack, and Miranda's father was falling backwards.

Kasumi was used to surprises in her business, but this time she let out a tiny scream. Whatever ammunition had been used had shattered the upper part of the businessman's skull, splattering various internal liquids all over the startled Salarian held hostage by the madman.

Shepard was reaching for his earpiece to communicate with the sniper (who, from the mess of the target's head, was Garrus and his ridiculous armour piercing rounds). Mordin was closing in on his nephew, the Scientist resting a reptilian hand on the researchers shoulder: the closest the old doctor had ever come to a demonstration of affection.

And Miranda was standing over her father's corpse. With a twisted, confused blankness that Kasumi struggled to define.

The same expression which gripped her face now. "He was my father. And, for all the mess he put me and Orianna and so many others through..." The Biotic curled her legs up on the chair, like a little girl again. And Kasumi could see. The thief could piece together the puzzle as if it was a book. This was Miranda, _desperate_ to be a child again. To be lavished over, and cared for, and wanted.

"Miranda," Kasumi started. And then frowned. "You don't get it, do you?" she blurted out, slightly ferociously.

Miranda blinked. This was... unexpected.

"Look, family is all well and good when they have your blood. But really? You haven't read enough sappy romance novels to know that real family is who you decide it to be?"

Miranda looked blankly at the slightly shorter Japanese girl. "I never read romance novels."

The thief rolled her eyes. "Ok, fine. But do you get the point? Or do I have to go all ancient Japanese proverbs on your ass?"

Miranda's mouth formed a slight upturn. "The Chinese created proverbs, not the Japanese."

"Hey! Just because they aren't as well known as the Chinese, doesn't mean they're not as clever or helpful!"

The XO giggled and Kasumi clapped her hands together. "See? I'm the Auntie who perks you up!" Kasumi paused and put a finger to her chin. "Although that would make me about fifty..."

Miranda shook her head, smiling, and stood. "Thank you, Kasumi. It's nice to know that I have people to rely on." She crossed her arms. "Now, why were you up here in the first place? Come to tell me something?"

Kasumi froze. _Oh, great. I've convinced her to be happy so I can ruin her day. Kasumi, in the intelligence stakes, this is a new low..._

PA-DING!

Kasumi and Miranda both looked reflexively at their Omni-tools.

"It's for me," Miranda said, furrowing her brow. "From Kaiden. It says that everything is OK now and the wedding is still going on." Miranda looked up. "What is he on about?"

Kasumi, internally, let out a victory whoop of Grunt sized proportions, and promised to say sorry to Kaiden for thinking nasty thoughts about him. And then steal his wallet for wasting her time. Externally, she tried to remain neutral: however, her success was limited.

"No idea." She smiled broadly, like a cat that had discovered it still had a few lives left. Hurriedly, she ushered Miranda towards the door. The ex- Cerberus operative looked like she wanted to interrogate the thief, but, with the door opening and the thief shifting her swiftly to the place of her upcoming nuptials, she decided to wait till a moment where her stomach suddenly wasn't trying to crawl inside her oesophagus.

* * *

><p>Miranda arrived outside the church to the marked sound of Commander John Shepard sighing in abject relief.<p>

"Took your time, Lawson." The SPECTRE noted with a grin containing several measures of sympathy, a measure of gratitude, and (if Miranda's sense of smell was anything to go by) a cheeky double measure of Earth brewed whiskey. Probably Bells, if her memories of Shepard's personal logs still rang true.

Tali tilted her head at her lover in what Miranda assumed was mild irritation, and gave him a light back swipe with her hand. "Bosh'tet. Leave Miranda alone."

Jack remained silent and brooding, leaning against the wall in a pose totally unsuitable for a girl in a dress. Shepard grumbled, but then held out his arm for Miranda to hold. In the absence of any family, Miranda had decided to ask her commanding officer to do the honours. Shepard had initially griped about this as well, muttering that it "made him feel like an old man." But he had come round fairly quickly once Jacob had informed him, quietly, in a corner of the cargo hold, how much it would mean to Miranda. In the form of an impromptu wrestling match which had left Jacob with a variety of bruises, cuts and a mild concussion.

Shepard had a bruised thumb. Even now, Jacob refused to talk about it. But at least Shepard came around...

Miranda took his arm dubiously, and Shepard muttered into her ear. "There's been some changes. Just go with it. Trust us."

Miranda frowned. "Nothing that will threaten my marriage, I hope?"

Shepard smirked. "Zaeed better hope not."

Miranda blinked. "Zaeed? What..."

The doors opened.

* * *

><p>Jack was going to wet herself.<p>

She'd never done it as a child. Yes, she was afraid- terrified in fact- by her surroundings and her experiences. But it didn't do to show fear in the research facility. And her fear had soon converted to rage anyway.

She had done it once as an adult. A very, very drunken dare when with a group of merc's at a pub. One of very few good nights she had found among the pit of shit that was her early life.

This time, however, she wasn't drunk or scared.

She was in silent fucking _hysterics!_

It was all going so well for the ex-cheerleader. The handsome fiancée, the beautiful church, the small but lavish ceremony. Even a floor length wedding gown in white which cut off at the top of the frilled bodice in a traditional 21st century style.

And now, she was being married.

By Zaeed.

That old merc was going to need that shitty old rifle if he was going to get away from this, judging by the sour look Miranda had taken at the offset. It was still smouldering behind an (only slightly forced) smile.

For an old merc, though, the git wasn't doing so badly. He'd stumbled over a few lines, and had rolled his eyes during one of the poems (a love triage of thirty verses by some Asari poet), but at least the bastard hadn't sworn yet. And the rumble of his British voice was actually mildly soothing, almost stately, without the presence of a multitude of obscenities.

However, this was still Zaeed in a vicar's cloth marrying Miranda to Jacob. And if Jack's parents weren't in the audience, she'd have been rolling on the floor with laughter, bitchy bride be dammed.

* * *

><p>The reception was to be held on the Normandy itself. The upgrades installed by the Alliance to prevent saboteurs and spies sneaking onto the ship during its "diplomatic" last mission would here suffice in keeping assassins, party crashers and, worse still, reporters, from entering the party. Plus, for a fairly important amount of time, it had been home for many of the party goers.<p>

It also enabled Joker to show off his baby. His _**other **_baby.

"YEAH!" the exuberant pilot shouted as he sent the ship into another barrel roll. "I have the SKILLS!"

Kelly shook her head as she held onto her little girls hand. "If he shouted that at _any other time..."_

Shepard chuckled as he leaned back to pull another bottle of beer from a bucket of ice on the floor behind him. "Please, Kelly. What happens between you and Joker in your bedroom is for you to know, and me to never find out."

It had all been rather inevitable. Joker was feeling down and exhausted by his duties, so Kelly had started psychiatric sessions with him. Within 2 weeks, the sessions had degenerated into long chats, progressing onto movie "dates" and... well... obviously, it wasn't _intercourse _(Vrolik's syndrome had stopped that) but the noises...

Shepard tried not to think about it too hard. And had installed soundproofing in his room.

But then, out of nowhere, Kelly and Joker had adopted a kid. Speculation was rife about the girl's origination. Some thought it was a refugee from one of the worlds they had visited. Others argued it was an IVF child with experimental aging genes. There was a suggestion that it was actually a very thin Volus spy in disguise, though this suggestion failed to explain the lack of a bodysuit (Shepard guessed this was one of Kasumi's suggestions). Only Joker and Kelly knew the truth, and they were staying shtum about the whole thing.

Tali was scarily involved in the upbringing of the child. Shepard had seen the tilts of the helmet, heard the occasional sigh, felt the odd little caresses on his arm as the 6 year old blond girl trotted by at breakneck speeds. And to be honest, he was bloody terrified.

The commander glanced over to Tali, standing over with Kolyat, Oriana and a rather rotund, graying man with a glass of red wine and a long cigar who Shepard presumed to be one of Miranda's friends. Tali and Oriana were giggling (At least, Shepard assumed Tali was giggling) as the old man waved his arms in another one of a seemingly endless collection of stories. Kolyat was more focused on the attractive human near him, but didn't seem to be having much success in that department.

Shepard missed Thane. The reptilian assassin had been a great companion, as good in a fight as in a conversation. Shepard had envied the ease Thane demonstrated in practically any situation: even adjusting to fatherhood quicker than the commander ever thought he would. The old assassin had died before the Reapers return, peacefully, on the Citadel. Shepard hadn't had time to attend the funeral, but he had sent money to cover the costs of the old warrior's ceremony. It was the least he could do for an old friend.

Kolyat had remained on the Citadel during the war, working as an assistant for Bailey in the tumultuous times. The Citadel, despite its Reaper origins, became essentially a giant refugee camp and, as with all refugee camps, crime had sprung to new heights. C-Sec had been rushed off its feet trying to keep order among the billions of terrified, homeless species, and from what Shepard understood, Kolyat had shown considerable skill and courage, though Bailey had also mentioned instances of rashness and an occasional stubborn streak which prevented the young Drell from actually progressing any ranks. Shepard was sure that Thane would be proud of how his son had turned out.

A small cheer went up from near to the elevator. Shepard looked past the scowling visage of Jack, who was standing by herself with a very potent cocktail in one of the sleek, Asari crystal glasses Miranda had bought for the event, to witness the arrival of the bride and groom.

Jacob hadn't changed out of his suit from earlier. He hadn't lost the smirk either. Miranda, however, had switched from her long dress to a slightly shorter, more manoeuvrable outfit. Shepard wouldn't have been surprised if there were at least 3 hidden weapons on her at the ceremony, let alone now. Which meant Zaeed, who was sitting in the corner of the room next to an enthusiastically chatty Mordin, a patiently listening Chackwas and a chuckling Anderson, was in for a rough ride.

Shepard chuckled, and returned to his drink. Relaxing was a new notion for him, and he was determined, for the next few days at least, to thoroughly enjoy it.

* * *

><p>Allrighty folks. Bit of a longer Authors note this time.<p>

Firstly, some of the information in this is a little bit outdated. For example, Thane lives beyond the start of Mass Effect 3 according to the game designers. Blooming gam developers with their cheeky reveals...

Also, yes. Killing Vega was a bit of a cop-out. So sue me, dangit!

Finally, I hope you enjoyed this story, and noticed the little, Firewolf99 related easter egg.

and to wrap it all up: Practically all of this belongs to Bioware. The story and OC's, however, are products of my insane mind. Don't touch- you may get rabies...


End file.
